


Discussions of Death

by DemonWalker



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonWalker/pseuds/DemonWalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Headcanon 3: Simon notices after a while that Kieren never really talks about where or why he died, but doesn't push it, until one day they're walking in the woods and get near to the cave and Kieren sort of freezes, before gently taking Simons hand and walking a little closer. They end up sitting just inside the entrance telling each other their death stories and comforting each other when it gets too much."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discussions of Death

Simon isn’t sure when it went from  _leisurely walk over to the Walker’s from the Bungalow_  to  _lets explore the woods because why the hell not._  It’s not like the HVF are active anymore, so it’s not really dangerous or a big deal in any way, it’s just weird. They haven’t done this, he hasn’t done this. He’s sure Kieren’s explored round here before, but Simon’s actively avoided it. 

 

It’s fun, though, he’s willing to admit. Kieren rolls up his sleeves, showing off the scars he often forgets are there, something Simon wishes he could say for his back, so that it’s easier to climb over the rocks there’s actually no need for him to climb over. 

Kieren pushes Simon to get his attention at one point, and he slips in the mud, thanks to the awful weather they’d had the last few days (“Worst it’s been at this time of year for yonks now” Steve had said). He lands on his ass, and Kieren’s tied between laughing and apologising. He does both, but stops abruptly when Simon swipes a foot between his legs and forces Kieren to lose his balance also; he falls directly on top of Simon, elbowing him in the chest. 

Simon feels younger again, some how, doing this with Kieren. They wander aimlessly. They kiss in the leaves, and against the trees. Kieren brushes a hand through Simon’s hair to pull bits of leaves from the strands, and Simon swipes his hands over Kieren’s shoulders to get rid of the mulch. 

Kieren ends up with leaves getting caught in the staples used on his wrists, and Simon’s as gentle as possible when he holds his wrist and tugs the stems from between the metal and flesh. He’s always trying not to think about the scars on Kieren’s wrists. He knows it’s his cause of death, just like Kieren knows the very different ones on his arms are his, but neither know any details, any of the specifics. 

They fall on the cave as it starts to get a little darker, grey clouds forming over their head. Simon almost suggests they turn back to head to Kieren’s house, but Kieren’s staring at the cave, then grabbing Simon’s hand, quickly but gently, in his own and pulling him over to the mouth, tugging him inside. 

Kieren sits where he usually would, and laughs at the fact the candles are still there. He lights them and tugs Simon from his crouching position above him, to sit; He doesn’t sit as far in as Kieren is, he crouches just inside the entrance for a second before moving to lean back against the wall, hands clasped, elbows on his knees. Refuses to move any further inside. Kieren’s glad for Simon’s habit of staring at that moment, he doesn’t know what he’d say if Simon saw the graffiti on the wall. 

Kieren sits silently for a moment, brushing his thumbs over each of his wrists, and then he starts and can’t quite find it in him to stop. 

"This is where I did it. Apparently my dad found me a few days later. But, this… this is the place. It was our place, when he was, when we both were, the first time. We used to spend so much time here, it was like… a safe haven, you know? We didn’t have to think here, didn’t have to worry; was just  _us_. He died in … He joined the army, didn’t even fuckin’ tell me, just signed himself up and left, not a word of goodbye at all. Died not long after, and I couldn’t… I just couldn’t.”

He rubs increasingly harder at his wrists as he talks, and Simon wonders if they itch, like his back sometimes does. If Kieren can ever feel the staples, ever wants to pull them out, just grab a pair of pliers and tug at them until black runs from his wrists. Simon did it to his back once, when he first joined the ULA. They had to staple his back up again for him. He didn’t leave his room for days after that. It’s itched more often ever since. 

"I didn’t leave a note or anything, didn’t really think about it. Just grabbed a…my army knife and came here. Funny, huh? That I’d choose an army knife to do it."

Simon wants to say something, wants to say that no one is ever worth killing yourself over, wants to tug Kieren’s hands from his wrists and tell him it’s okay, wants to apologise, tell him off, call him an idiot. 

But he can’t, because he knows that feeling, that hopelessness, that desperation, that need for everything to just  _stop._ That utter darkness that pulls you in to the point where you can’t even remember whether there was ever any light, let alone where it might have once come from. 

Kieren, he supposes, lost his one source of light, and couldn’t bring himself to believe that there would ever be another.

So he won’t tell him that he’s stupid, he won’t tell him that there isn’t ever any reason that warrants killing yourself over; he won’t tell him that he shouldn’t have done that. He won’t tell him that it’s okay, either. 

It isn’t okay, it wasn’t okay. 

Words won’t help, won’t comfort.

Simon holds a hand out, and Kieren takes it, squeezes. Closes his eyes and lets out a breath and smiles gently, before looking at him again, looking like he’s had a weight taken off his shoulders.

Simon’s used to being told rising stories, isn’t used to being told how people died. Amy told him how she did, but he never uttered his own story. He said he felt relief when he died, and she didn’t question it after that, just nodded her head sadly and hugged him tightly, as if she’d heard that before. 

He realises she probably had, from Kieren. 

"I killed myself on my birthday. I say I killed myself, but it wasn’t consciously decided. I think I knew that’s what I was aiming for, on some level, but I didn’t go out with the intention to end it. There was a… an abandoned building, me and a few other junkies would go there, get fucked up, leave, go back, never the same people, though, ‘cept me. Not like I could do it at home; I wasn’t that messed up. Well…when I say  _wasn’t._  I did that night.”

Kieren feels like he’s going to throw up, realises he should maybe stop him, but realises he wants to know, and wants Simon to talk about it, he thinks maybe every  _redeemed_  should talk about it, because it does help. It’s a part of the them that they used to be, not a part of the them they are now, and carrying it around keeps it with them, forces it to be an ugly part of them that they shouldn’t have to have in their minds 24/7. No matter how they ‘croaked’, they should be allowed to unload and forget. So he won’t stop him. 

"Police were outside the building when I got there. Didn’t have a choice.. well, felt like I didn’t have a choice, not like I’d just…"

He shakes his head there, closes his eyes and tilts his head away from Kieren, twitches his fingers like he’s going to pull his hand from Kieren’s. Kieren tightens his grip. 

"Dad was out, mum let me in; didn’t question the jitters, or the way I avoided her questions of why I was there. Whether I was hungry. Didn’t question the odd number of warm layers, despite the fact it was an abnormally warm day. God, the amount I can remember of that night is … I wish I couldn’t, y’know? I remember her screaming when she ran into the room. Remember her tugging the lace off my arm, waving the needle at me, asking what I’d taken, hearing the thud of my dad rushing into the room after her. Then relief, feeling warm,and then just… darkness."

Kieren doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to follow that up with any words or acknowledgement, so he just pushes himself up with his free hand, refusing to let go of Simon’s with the other. He crouches between Simon’s legs, awkwardly, and wraps the free arm around his shoulders, burying his nose in his hair.

Neither of them know how long they stay like that, it doesn’t matter. Like their black and blue scars, they feel open and raw, but unlike them, they feel a sense of relief that is not unlike the relief they felt when they thought it was over -   the relief of letting go. It’s the end of that life, they can move on from then, move forward. 

_Together._


End file.
